


B-362 (The Peace Child)

by jellybeansarecool



Category: Star Trek (Novels), Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Child Neglect, Crew as Family, Cultural Misunderstandings, F/M, Fluff, Kirsten Beyer, Post Full Circle books, So lots of spoilers really, Spoilers for the Full Circle books, Treaty Ceremonies, badly thought out laws, but really spoilers for any of Beyer’s awesome novels, especially for To Lose the Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeansarecool/pseuds/jellybeansarecool
Summary: On a distant planet, Chakotay and Janeway successfully lead negotiations between the host civilization and the Federation. The treaty concludes with a celebratory Peace Feast. Unknown to theVoyagercrew, however, are certain rites that are included in this feast. Rites, that if refused, are considered an act of war. Janeway and Chakotay, with the help of Counsellor Cambridge, must find a solution and quick if they want to protect the treaty. The decisions made will alter the Federation's image in this area of space and will change their lives forever.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 37
Kudos: 35





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This was just meant to be a quick one-shot of my thoughts after _To Lose the Earth_ , but it quickly turned into something more.   
> Enjoy!

_Voyager_ had had a peaceful eighteen months since she arrived in the Sagittarius Dwarf Elliptical. On the far edges of the galaxy there proved to be few warp-capable species, and those that were had little to no interest in the Federation starship. That, paired with their unique paths of evolution and cultural development, created first-contact challenges that were almost insurmountable. If it hadn’t been for the plethora of scientific discoveries that captivated the scientists of Voyager, her Admiral included, the intrepid-class ship may have turned home early. As it was, her time beyond the Milky Way was coming to a close. 

Admiral Kathryn Janeway looked over at her husband, Captain Chakotay, and smiled. They were seated in the command chairs on the bridge watching the stars zip by on the viewscreen. It had been another quiet day. He grinned back at her. They only had two more hours on duty, and it was their turn on holodeck two tonight. First, however, they had babysitting duty. 

First Officer Harry Kim’s daughter had been born almost one year ago. She was the darling of the ship, and everyone gladly volunteered their precious off-hours to watch her. The Admiral knew how much it meant for Harry to have _Voyager_ ’s crew come around him like the family they were. The little girl was a happy and healthy child who, to Janeway’s surprise, was particularly attached to Chakotay’s half Kriosian pilot. Even more surprising, in Janeway’s opinion, was the young woman’s own attachment to the infant. Even before Annabelle Kim, Annie as she was affectionately known, was born, Aytar Gwyn demonstrated a profound interest in the child. This evening, however, both she and Kim were on bridge duty, and it fell to the Command Team to look after the youngest member of the ship. 

Kim arrived on the bridge with Annie in his arms. Her small thumb was wedged in her mouth. With her free hand, she held securely to her father’s uniform. As he walked towards his Captain to hand over his child and take over the centre seat, a young Ensign stationed at operations called out, “Captain.”

“Yes, Ensign?” Chakotay turned his bright eyes from his approaching friend to the young woman inspecting her computer panel. 

“I’m picking up some unusual readings from a planet eighty light-years from our present location.”

The Captain tapped his com-badge when the Ensign was unable to give him any more information, “Bridge to Astrometrics.”

“Seven, here.”

“Seven,” Chakotay asked, “Do you have any data on a planet eighty light-years from our present location?”

“Yes, Captain. I was running a scan on it just before you contacted me. It appears to be an M-class planet with humanoid life forms. There is also evidence it is a warp-capable civilisation.” 

Chakotay looked over at his wife. He bit back a smile at the pure excitement in her eyes. While she had enjoyed the scientific discoveries of the past year and a half, he knew she missed exploring new cultures and civilisations almost as much as he. The Captain nodded, letting her make the call, “Set a course, Mr Osin.” 

“Aye, Admiral.”

First contact was going spectacularly well. From the moment the first Terrashian appeared on the viewscreen they had been welcoming and friendly, practically bending over backwards for the _Voyager_ crew. An impressive feat as even the shortest among them stood over six feet tall. 

Chakotay looked around the table and smiled; it was good to see his crew relaxing and enjoying themselves. They were at the end of a smooth and seamless three weeks of friendship discussions. He couldn’t rightly call them ‘negotiations’ as both sides ostensibly had the same goals in mind. The Peace Feast was the final step. Upon its completion, the Federation would have their first official ally in another galaxy. His heart beat faster in anticipation. He reached under the table and rested his hand on Kathryn’s thigh. He gave it a small squeeze. She turned her head and beamed up at him; she too felt the heady thrill of the successful alliance. 

“Voyagers. Terrashians. _My friends_ ,” the Governor and head of the Terrashian delegation began, “I thank you all for your laughter and your friendship. We come now to the final part of our feast.” The Terrashian representatives smiled broadly. “It is time to seal the peace between our people!” He swept his long arm back to draw attention to the opening door at the far end of the banquet room. 

A Terrashian couple walked through the door. Their dark hair shone in the light, and their formal red robes stood in stark contrast to their richly tanned skin. Despite the perfection of their appearances, their freckled faces were long and sullen. Even the row of small bony spikes that protruded through the sleeves of their gowns seemed to droop. Chakotay tried to hold back a frown that threatened to mar his face. Every other member of this species appeared cheerful and glad of the ceremony. These two did not. He felt a knot tying itself in his stomach. And if the tense muscle beneath his hand was any indication, Kathryn was wrestling with the same waves of trepidation he was. 

The couple moved to stand beside Governor Vax. Chakotay missed the man’s next words when he realised that wrapped in a bright red cloth embroidered with gold was an infant. The woman’s long fingers wrapped protectively around the child’s legs, holding him close to her. With a nod from the Governor, she moved toward the Admiral and the Captain. They gave each other a worried glance as she stopped beside Janeway, this close, they could see the tears glistening in her dark eyes. 

The woman bowed low and stretched out her arms, presenting the child to them. “Your son,” she murmured. The Admiral stood up so fast her chair slid across the floor behind her. The woman looked up, bewildered. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Janeway asked, her voice cold as ice. 

Chakotay leaned across the empty space toward the woman who continued to hold out her child for the Admiral to take. He gave her an apologetic smile as he took the infant from her outstretched arms before they could collapse with exhaustion. He rose to stand beside Kathryn, his heart beating a worried tattoo in his chest. The baby boy yawned and snuggled his head into the soft fabric of the blanket. 

Janeway glanced down at the child in Chakotay’s arms, her frown deepening. She turned her fiery eyes back to the Governor. “Explain.” 

Governor Vax paled. It was a credit to his fortitude that he spoke in low soothing tones, “Admiral. We did not wish to surprise you. We thought you’d been made aware of the nature of the Peace Feast.”

“Evidently not.”

“The child the Captain is holding was the first boy born of our people on _The Day of Arrival_.” His voice lingered lovingly over the title given to the day _Voyager_ arrived in the planet’s atmosphere. “He is the seal of peace between our people. As such, he is now your son.”

“No,” Janeway ground out. “Absolutely not. I am not taking this woman’s child.” She turned to the man beside her. “Captain, return the baby.”

Chakotay nodded and handed the infant back to the woman. She wept openly. She clutched the child tight to her chest and repeatedly bowed as she backed away from them. 

The Governor placed his hands on the table in front of him, his eyes holding barely restrained fury and disappointment. “To refuse the Peace Child is to declare war on our people.”

“I do not wish for war, Governor, but I cannot accept that a Peace Child is the only way to seal the agreement between the Federation and Terrash.” 

Governor Vax shook his head, ready to try one last time to make the Admiral see that there was no other way. This was a sacred tradition of his people. One couldn’t just do away with it. Before he could speak, however, the man to his immediate left, Counsellor Cambridge, made a request, “Governor, perhaps we continue the feast while you and I talk about the Peace Child and come to an understanding. As you said, this is a surprise to us. We need some time to think about it and understand what it means.” 

Reluctantly the Governor nodded. He gestured for his people to return to their seats. As they did so, the couple and their child were escorted from the room. 

Once the conversations around them resumed, and Cambridge was satisfied that the Admiral and the Captain weren’t about to leave the feast abruptly or make another scene, _Voyager_ ’s Counsellor turned to Governor Vax. “You must forgive the Admiral,” he began, “her reaction was not meant as an act of war. It was a matter of cultural misunderstanding. The Federation does not tend to use children as gifts, and certainly not without warning.” 

“The Peace Child is not a gift, Counsellor, but a covenant of flesh and bone between two races. It has been our practice since the Dark Times to seal the bond of peace and friendship through a new-born son of our people. He is the Peace Child. Born of our flesh, he is one of us, a Terrashian, but as the declared son of our newfound friends, he is also one of you. He serves as a reminder of the peace and joining of our peoples in the bonds of love. We pledge not to act in aggression against you because our son is now your son. You, in turn, pledge not to act in aggression against us because our people are your son’s people. And as he grows and has children of his own with your people, the bond grows between us both. No longer are we two people but bound through the blood and life of the Peace Child, we are one.”

Cambridge nodded, fascinated. “That may work, Sir, with people and planets in your own region of space, but we come from another galaxy. The journey we face returning home is incredibly dangerous. It is no place for a child. There is no guarantee that any of us will survive the trip back to the Milky Way or through the many quadrants full of hostile civilisations that we must cross to arrive back at Earth.” 

Governor Vax rose a thick eyebrow, “But what about the child of your First Officer, Harry Kim? His daughter is with him on _Voyager_ , is she not? And yet she is also an infant.” 

The Counsellor shook his head, “Annie is unique. She was not planned for, and her father is aware of the dangers. If, heaven forbid, she dies, as we all may do, from an attack by hostile forces, the fate of the relationship between two civilisations is not put into question. What you tell of the Peace Child, this would not be the case in the advent of the boy’s death.” 

The Governor tilted his head, letting the argument the human beside him made turn over in his mind. After a long moment of silence, he shook his head in disagreement, “No. It is no different. No matter our path, be it in this galaxy or the next, death is always an option. We cannot control the fates. If the Peace Child were to die at the hands of your enemies, that would not change the bond that he has created between our people. It may even strengthen it. The enemies that struck you down would become more than just the enemies or our allies but true enemies of us as well.” 

Cambridge frowned. He wasn’t sure how he could convince the Governor that the Admiral wouldn’t agree to the ceremony. He needed to find an argument that Janeway would agree to that wouldn’t threaten the treaty. “You must also consider,” he tried, “that the idea of the Peace Child is against the laws of our people. In asking the Admiral and the Captain to accept the child as their own son, when he has parents who love him and can care for him, you are asking them to commit an illegal act. The Federation has very strict policies about keeping children with their biological parents on the condition that those parents are capable of providing a safe home for the child.” 

Much to Cambridge’s surprise, this argument appeared to have more weight for Governor Vax than his previous comments had. The man’s square face sagged, giving it the illusion of becoming longer and rounder. Cambridge strained to hear the words he muttered to himself. Something about how the priests and other dignitaries would not be pleased. Cambridge thought he also heard something about how this might dissolve the agreement between the two parties. His heart sank. The Admiral would not be happy. 

From his position directly behind the men, Governor Vax’s aid, Myx, heard everything that had been spoken. Wanting to keep the peace treaty, he stepped forward, lowering his mouth to where he could whisper to his boss without being overheard by the other government officials at the table. What he had to suggest bordered on heresy and treason, but if the Governor agreed to it, it might just save the treaty. “What if,” he asked, “there was a boy who was born on the Day of Arrival but did not have parents of his own?”

The Governor twisted in his seat to look at Myx, “You mean a house boy?”

Cambridge frowned in confusion, trying to find meaning in the cryptic words. 

Myx nodded, “He is unlikely to be a new-born. But if you could convince the other dignitaries that such a child would not break the laws of the Federation, then the Admiral would not have to worry about taking the child away from his rightful parents…”

“Because he doesn’t have any,” Governor Vax supplied.

“Yes, Sir.”

The light dawned; Cambridge realised that the two men were talking about using an orphaned boy as the Peace Child. He shook his head. “It still wouldn’t work,” he explained, “The Admiral, and the Captain especially, would never tolerate taking a child away from its culture. Their concern would be multiplied as the likelihood of his coming back to his home planet would be very low.” Cambridge sighed. “Captain Chakotay takes culture, tradition, and heritage very seriously. The traditions of his own people are close to his heart, and the study of other cultures is of great interest to him. As an anthropologist and as a Native American, it would destroy him to remove a child from the connections of his people.” 

Rather than frown in frustration at his solution being shot down, Myx smiled. “Your Captain Chakotay will be pleased to note that this will not be an issue in the case of a house boy.”

A knot formed in the Counsellor’s stomach. “What do you mean?” He asked.

Governor Vax picked up the narrative, “The laws on Terrash state that children are not citizens in their own right until they reach adulthood. Until that time in which they reach maturity, they are protected by the law and are granted the rights and privileges of a Terrashian only through their parents. Children are seen as extensions of their parents until their naming ceremony, which is conducted on their twentieth birthday. Because house children do not have parents, they are not seen by the law as having the rights or privileges of their parented counterparts. On reaching adulthood, they too enter Terrashian society as full citizens, but until that day…” The Governor shrugged leaving the sentence unfinished. 

He concluded, saying, “In other words, if one of the house boys were to be the Peace Child, you would not be taking him away from his Terrashian culture and people because he is not a Terrashian, Terrash is not his home.” 

Bile burnt the back of Cambridge’s throat. The two men both looked so pleased with finding a solution to their diplomatic problem that they didn’t realise the horror their words had wrought in him. Trying to focus on the issue at hand, Cambridge attempted one last argument, “But if the ‘house boy’ isn’t seen by your law as Terrashian, surely he couldn’t take the place of the Peace Child?” 

To his dismay, Vax shook his head, “In a case such as this we could make an exception. We would seal the bond of peace between our people on the _promise_ of the boy’s future as a Terrashian male. It would be a covenant that acted outside the bounds of time.” The man shrugged his broad shoulders, “This would hardly be a stretch of legislation and interpretation for our lawyers.” 

“But…” Cambridge felt desperation claw at his insides. 

The previously reasonable man waved his misgivings away with a large hand. “Myx,” he said, turning to his aid, “Find and bring this new Peace Child to me.”

“Yes, Sir.” 

Cambridge knew he had lost. All that was left was to find out more about the ceremony and gather all the information he could on the Peace Child. Maybe there was still some hope to negotiate something that would soften the deal for Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay. He doubted it.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay and Cambridge try once again to keep Kathryn from instigating a war. And we meet the Peace Child.

From the time they had resumed their seats, Chakotay hadn’t moved his hand from his wife’s leg, trying to give her the support and grounding she needed. The whole situation with the infant had thrown her completely. If he was honest, it had done a number on him as well. How could they have not known about this _Peace Child_? Kathryn’s hand, gripping onto his own, was the only thing keeping him centred. His mind was a swirl of emotions as he tried to understand the significance of the Peace Child. What did all this mean for the treaty negotiations they had invested so much time in? 

He glanced over at Kathryn, the furrowed line between her eyebrows bringing a small smile to his lips. Her intense concentration as she tried to read the lips of Governor Vax and Counsellor Cambridge pulled the Captain from his spiralling thoughts. The passion with which she pursued an answer to their current situation was a sign of normality amidst impending chaos. Chakotay trusted Cambridge despite the rocky start they had shared. And if all else failed, his wife was sure to devise a plan that didn’t include starting a war with the Terrashians. He hoped. 

When the last dish was cleared away, the Captain breathed a sigh of relief. Cambridge must have done it. He must have convinced Vax to forgo the Peace Child ceremony. Chakotay felt Kathryn relax under his palm. She must have come to the same conclusion he did. She squeezed his fingers lightly and returned her hand to the surface of the table. 

Their small celebration proved to be untimely, however. Cambridge caught Chakotay’s eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. The Captain’s stomach dropped. No. He reached out and grasped Kathryn’s arm. She turned to him, confused, almost missing the movement of the large ornate doors at the far end of the banquet hall. This time they opened to reveal the Aid-to-the-Governor and a small boy. Chakotay guessed he couldn’t be older than three.

For the second time that night, Governor Vax stood. “Ladies, gentlemen, and others, I present to you the Peace Child.” 

Chakotay was almost pleased to note that the confused looks adorning the faces around the table were not confined to his own crew. Apparently, this was unprecedented for the Terrashians as well. 

Vax cleared his throat. “Rest assured, our lawyers have confirmed that the seal of peace can be made through this child.”

One of the dignitaries, Vice-Governor Chix, Chakotay thought, spoke in a deep gravelly voice, “This is an abomination. He is obviously a house boy. I will not let this stand!”

“Vice-Governor Chix, I assure you this has been cleared. There is no reason to be hostile.” 

Chix let out a huff of disbelief, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The spikes along his arms quivered in displeasure.

The Governor turned to the child, his voice softening. “Go on, son. They’re right over there.” He pointed at _Voyager’s_ command team. 

“No.” Chakotay heard Kathryn whisper beside him. He winced. This wasn’t going to end well. 

They watched as the child shuffled forward, unused to the heavy gown that weighed on his narrow shoulders. Like all Terrashians, the dark tanned skin of his face held a scattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Under a mop of unruly black hair, dark eyes shone with fear. He was a model of Terrashian genetics with his low set ears and long limbs, but as he got closer, Chakotay was shocked to note just how skinny the boy was. Did no one feed him? 

The boy looked up at them with awe-like wonder before remembering himself. Scuffing his feet backwards, he bowed.

The Admiral frowned, her eyes turning to steal points. She stood. “Did I not make myself clear, Governor? I will not be taking any child away from their family. I can not condone such an act.” 

“You are mistaken, Admiral. This boy does not possess parents or a family of any kind.” Vax’s voice took on a tone of warning. “You must understand, Admiral, that we have taken great pains and compromised almost beyond reason so that you may uphold Federation law while finalising the ceremony of peace.” 

Before Janeway could utter another rebuke, Chakotay tried to diffuse the situation. He knew things could quickly escalate, particularly when cultural misunderstandings and emotional responses were at the centre. The Captain stepped around Janeway and moved toward the boy before crouching down. “What’s your name?” He asked.

The child’s face contorted in confusion. He didn’t understand.

A warning bell rang in the back of the Captain’s mind. He tried to silence it. “What do people usually call you?” He tried. 

A flash of understanding passed over his sharp features. “B-362.” 

The boy’s answer pulled Admiral Janeway’s attention from the intense glare she had directed towards Governor Vax. Her eyes softened when she looked at the child. 

Seven, who’d been seated on the other side of the Admiral, questioned the boy, “Is that your designation? I am Seven-of-Nine. I too have a number designation.” 

The boy shook with fear, unused to being the centre of attention.

The Governor’s aid, Myx, rescued B-362 from further questioning. “It isn’t a name,” he explained, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his long robe. “All house children are labelled according to gender, floor, room, and bed number for their respective buildings. This boy here, for example, is held at the Capital House, floor three, room six, bed two, ergo B-362.” 

“You’re telling me he doesn’t have a name?” Righteous anger flared in Chakotay’s chest, bringing him to his feet.

The Governor spoke again, “Please understand that in our culture, no child has their own name until they reach adulthood. Our naming ceremonies are important and much anticipated by family and friends.” 

“Surely, you don’t all call your children a collection of numbers?” Janeway fought to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. In her experience, no culture that listed people by number cared for the rights of the individual. The Borg came to mind.

“No. No, of course not.” Vax shook his head. “Children are known through the names of their parents. Names are given at the same time as full citizen rights and recognition. My children,” a fond smile passed over his lips, “are known as Vaxie and Vaxian. Myx’s children are Myxian and Myxie. At their naming ceremonies, they will take their own names. Names which will be extended to their own children when the time comes.” 

The Admiral looked back down at B-362. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. We can’t.” Her eyes shifted to pierce the Governor’s own. “People are not commodities to be traded for the assurance of peace.” 

Chakotay heard a sniffle near his feet. He looked at the boy. The Captain could tell he was trying to be brave, but the tears that ran down his face betrayed him. Something inside the former Maquis broke. He knelt back down in front of the boy. Taking one of the child’s small hands in his own, he asked, “What’s the matter?” 

B-362 shook his head, refusing to answer. 

“Please?” 

A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone waited with bated breath to see if the boy would speak.

“They told me I was going to get a mum and dad. No one at the house, ‘cept G-533 and G-171, gets parents. I was scared ‘cause you’re aliens, but B-444 and G-225 told me you fly up there.” He pointed up at the ceiling before scuffing his ceremonial slipper and admitting, “I like the stars.” 

A quick smile passed over Kathryn’s lips, one her husband didn’t see as he focused on the small person in front of him.

“Do you know what made me not so scared?”

Chakotay shook his head, encouraging the boy to continue.

“They say that kids with parents don’t ha’f to be hungry. And they get to go to school. G-811 helped me with my numbers, and she told me that kids with parents have books with stories in them. Do you have a book? I’d like to have a book.” 

Chakotay’s heart shattered. He risked a glance up at his wife. He could see her blinking back tears and fighting not to break. He knew this would change nothing. _Regulations_. His mouth tasted of metal. 

The boy’s eyes grew sad. “They lied, didn’t they? Lots of people do that. You’re not going to be my mum and dad, are you?” He let out a huff. “It’s ‘cause I’m a house kid, isn’t it? People don’t like us very much.” 

Chakotay curled his fingers into his palm, desperately fighting the urge to wipe away the tear that rolled down the small cheek. He wanted nothing more than to brush the boy’s hair back and pull him close, vowing to fight the universe with his bare hands if it meant keeping this child safe. But it wasn’t his place to do so. He had a whole ship full of souls he had a responsibility to. They had to come first.

“I’m five now,” the boy revealed after lapsing into silence. “An’ the men who came to the house said that my birthday was im-pooor-tant. That ‘cause I was born on the Day of Arrival I had to go with them. That I was special, but they were lying ‘bout that too, weren’t they?”

Chakotay shook his head. He put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, his fingers separated by the small bony spikes that adorned B-362’s arms. He was horrified at how thin the child was under the heavy robe he wore. “You are special,” he said desperately. “The men didn’t lie about that. You need to remember that you’re very, _very_ special. There’s no one else in the universe like you. Will you remember that for me? That you are special? That you’re important? That you matter very much?”

The boy frowned, unsure if he should believe the man who he’d been told would be his dad. His not-Dad’s intensity scared him. He nodded. 

Chakotay gave the boy a tight smile and rose to stand beside the Admiral. She was about to speak again when Counsellor Cambridge interrupted. “Governor Vax, might I have a few words in private with Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay?” 

The Governor nodded with a slight wave of his large hand.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation, a confrontation, and a decision.

From the moment the door to the private room closed behind them, Hugh Cambridge struggled to modulate the volume of his voice. “Are you trying to start a war?!” He shouted.

Admiral Kathryn Janeway turned to her Counsellor and First Contact specialist. She gritted her teeth, her brows furrowing in anger. “Counsellor!” She ground out, reprimanding him before demanding, arms swept wide, “What the hell is going on?” 

Cambridge ran a hand through his thinning hair and sighed, releasing the frustration that swirled through his body. Starting a fight with his commanding officers was not the solution to their current predicament. The Counsellor in him knew that. The man, however, was struggling.

Looking at both of them in turn, he tried to explain the role of the Peace Child. He didn’t get much further than saying that if they wanted to avoid an all-out war, something _Voyager_ was ill-equipped for, they had little choice but to go through with the ceremony. He stopped speaking when he realised that the Captain of the ship, someone whose life was about to change drastically no matter the decision made, wasn’t listening to a word he said. 

“Chakotay?” Cambridge intended for it to come out as a bark, a demand for the man’s attention; instead, the word was laced with concern. 

Chakotay shook his head, trying to focus. “Sorry, Counsellor. You were saying?” 

Hugh hardly had time to breathe before Chakotay spoke again. “No. I’m sorry, but why is he so small? He said he’d just turned five. The Terrashian’s are tall people, but the boy’s not even the size of a human five-year-old. And by the spirits, why doesn’t he have a proper name?” The Captain’s voice rose in frustration.

Cambridge bit back a sigh, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to proceed until he gave the man the answers he sought. Answers that would make convincing them to go through with the ceremony all but impossible. “The laws of this world, as Governor Vax hinted at, don’t see children as their own persons until they reach the age of twenty. Until that time, they are only seen as extensions of their parents. 

“They’ve created a very dark, very deep hole in their legal system,” he continued with a shrug. “One that a whole section of their population falls through, children without parents. They have no rights or protections. And granting them the same rights as their counterparts once they reach maturity doesn’t erase the harm that is undoubtedly done to them throughout their formative years.”

Noting the horror growing on his commanding officers’ faces, the Counsellor ploughed ahead, “I questioned the Governor about it. He acknowledged that some people on Terrash disapprove of this state of affairs. He counts himself among them. They are the ones who volunteer to teach the children, feed them, that sort of thing.” He waved his hand through the air. “Schools are seen as a right of citizenship. Without the volunteers coming in when they have an extra hour or two to spare, the house children would never get any form of education. Some nurses and doctors also volunteer to give much-needed surgeries and medicines, but from what I understood, it’s very little. 

“The Governor tried to make it seem less barbaric than it is by telling me that there are charity organisations that raise funds to keep the heating on and provide food and clothes for them. But as we saw with B-362, I’d say there is little money to go around. He was also quick to tell me that the government provides the buildings the children live in rent-free. I’m not sure who he was trying to convince more, himself or me,” he added as an after-thought. 

Cambridge shook his head, “I also found out that the children can be, by all intents and purposes, adopted. Apparently, there is a rite that can be performed that makes a house child legally the son or daughter of an adult and therefore protected by the law. The problem is, there are so few people willing to take these children in as their own and even less who are willing to fight to change the laws to protect the children.”

Chakotay’s hands balled into fists at his side. They shook with barely restrained fury. “We can’t go through with this. We have to call off the treaty.” 

The Admiral turned to her husband; she laid a gentle hand on his chest. She felt him relax under her touch. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, reading the thoughts and emotions that they saw there. “I’m inclined to agree,” she whispered. 

“You are?”

She looked at him, surprised. “Of course. I meant what I said. Children should not be used as pawns in political games.”

Cambridge cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “Normally, I’d be the first to argue against finalising the treaty in light of what we’ve just found, but from everything I’ve seen and heard about this society, this appears to be the only problematic issue. The Federation has made alliances with worse. I think you should follow through with the ceremony.”

“What? Are you mad?” Chakotay growled. “This could be the tip of the iceberg. If they treat their children, _CHILDREN_ , like this, who’s to say there aren’t worse atrocities hidden behind closed doors?” 

Cambridge shook his head. “I understand. But despite its consequences, it’s a small piece of legislation. One that could easily be ratified. The Governor seemed to agree with my assessment that this shouldn’t continue, that it can’t continue. He’s been fighting for change for years. The Federation can share its own child welfare regulations. The Governor’s adamant that they just need to see that it doesn’t have to be this way, that there are other options. The treaty agrees to an exchange of knowledge with the Federation; this could be one of the things that we share. Without breaking any Federation or Starfleet regulations, we could do a lot of good here.”

“Someone would have to stay behind to do that,” Chakotay argued. “You’re not talking about information on spacial anomalies or engineering tricks. This would require lengthy one on one discussion, not a data dump. We’re too far away from the Alpha Quadrant to do an exchange of lawyers.” 

Cambridge disagreed. “The Governor has agreed that if you proceed with the ceremony, then there will be an exchange of information. We will receive data on their history and culture so that the Peace Child can know his people and their traditions,” Cambridge nodded in Chakotay’s direction, silently acknowledging his belief that history and tradition is one’s birthright. 

“In return,” the Counsellor proposed, “we will give them data on the Federation’s child protection laws. Governor Vax has assured me that he has a group of lawyers trained in family law already waiting.”

Janeway hummed under her breath, thinking, trying to rationalise what was being asked of them. She pushed the twinges of her heart aside and attempted to focus on logic. Not for the first time, she wished Tuvok was with them. “Let me get this straight. The Peace Child is the physical representation of the treaty. He ties the two civilisations together by being the son of both cultures, the Federation and Terrash. So, this isn’t really about Chakotay and I, but about our roles as Admiral and Captain. We represent the Federation in the ceremony, and then the child joins us on _Voyager_ for our trip back to Earth. My only question,” she concluded, tapping her finger to a spot just above her temple, “is who is he meant to live with when we get there?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?” The Admiral echoed, her eyebrow arching.

“Spit it out, Hugh,” Chakotay snapped.

“It’s not the Federation who accepts the Peace Child. It’s you. He would be _your_ son. You would adopt him.” 

Chakotay’s heart stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Kathryn, afraid of what he might see. While he was staring unseeing at Counsellor Hugh Cambridge, he heard the strangled little gasp that escaped his wife’s throat. Unsurprisingly, she was having a just as hard a time wrapping her head around it as he was. 

Cambridge continued to speak as if he wasn’t delivering Earth-shattering news. “Under normal circumstances, the Peace Child is presented to the highest governing authority to be adopted into their household. Presidents, Kings, Queens, that sort of thing. As you two are the highest-ranking officers, representatives of the Federation, _and_ married, it has been decided that the boy will be presented to you and thereafter be your son. It would be no different than if he were your biological child.”

Kathryn Janeway spun away from the two men. She moved to the small window that overlooked the green grounds of the parliamentary buildings. Chakotay used the time to lean against one of the whitewashed walls. He tilted his head back until it rested on the cool surface, his face pointing at the ceiling, and closed his eyes. He tried to take deep calming breaths.

Cambridge looked first at one then the other. “There isn’t much time, Admiral, Captain. You need to make a decision now. Peace or war? I have to say; I’m struggling to understand why you’re having such a hard time making the call. Not only does the ceremony seal the treaty that you’ve spent the last three weeks negotiating, but it also has the potential to change the fate of thousands of children. The Governor has been looking for a way to convince his people that the law needs to be altered for years. By having a house child fill the role of Peace Child, you are sending the message that those children are equal to every other child. You are providing them with the resources they need to conceive new laws and protections for children. And, you are demonstrating that accepting a house child is an honourable thing to do. Following your example, more children might have the chance of having families. 

“So, tell me this,” Cambridge glared at them, “why are you both acting like I just killed your dog?” 

Chakotay groaned at the image. He swallowed heavily, pushing the bile back down. 

“This isn’t about the treaty or the Terrashians, is it?” Cambridge pushed. “It’s about you not wanting a child, isn’t it? Now, I know for a fact Chakotay wanted children, so this isn’t about him. It’s about you, Admiral.”

“That’s unfair, Counsellor,” Chakotay said, pushing away from the wall. “This is as much about B-362 as it is about us. We’re talking about a real child here.” 

Cambridge turned to him, his eyebrows rising on his forehead. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me _you_ don’t want to go out there right now and take the boy back with you to _Voyager_.” 

Chakotay held his tongue and eyed the stain on the floor next to his shoe. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

While the men were speaking, Janeway turned from the window and directed a glare at Cambridge. It held the intensity of a supernova. 

Cambridge equalled her glare with one of his own. “So, tell me, Admiral. Why are you. Afraid of one. Little. Boy?” Each word was punctuated with a step towards her.

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay. Her husband looked like he wanted the ground to open and swallow him whole. He refused to meet her eyes. She returned her focus to the man in front of her, fury burning at her core. “ _Mister_ Cambridge, you have crossed the line,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

Cambridge raised his hand, his jaw tense. “No. I am not going to let you get away with that. Strip me of my duties. Transfer me. Hell, throw me out an airlock. But you will listen.”

The Admiral crossed her arms over her chest, daring the other man to continue.

“I don’t know what it is that makes you think you’d be unfit to be a mother. Duties? The danger of space? What happened with Mollah? Losing your own father? Guilt? The belief you don’t deserve it? It sure as hell isn’t regulations. There is nothing in the Starfleet handbook that says anything against having children while in command. Adopted or otherwise.” 

The look on Kathryn’s face assured him that each punch hit its mark. 

Cambridge took a breath, steadying himself. “Having a family isn’t something you do alone,” he continued softly, apologetically. “Ask Tom and B’Elanna. Ask Harry Kim. Everyone has stepped up to help him. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s Annie’s father. Nor does it take away from the challenges and hard decisions he has to make. But it does provide him with the support he needs, and the support Annie needs so that he can focus on being the best father he can be. And it means we all share in the joys of that little girl. She’s teaching us to see the universe with brand new eyes. She is an equally important member of the crew as anyone else aboard _Voyager_. Chakotay knows it. You know it. You’ve seen it with Annie, with Miral and Michael, and with Naomi.” 

The Counsellor paused for a breath, “Your son would be the same. Why do you think this will be any different? He will have a ship full of aunts and uncles ready to support and love him. No one’s asking you to do this alone. I ask you again, what are you afraid of?”

“It’s not that I– I don’t _not_ – I used to–” As the Admiral struggled to formulate a sentence, Chakotay lifted his head and watched his wife, a mirid of emotions struggling for dominance in his chest.

Tears sparkled in Kathryn’s eyes. She turned her head, blinking them away. When she opened her eyes again, Chakotay was standing beside her. He held out his arms, and she slipped into them. He held her close to his chest, letting her calm her breathing and get her emotions under control. Chakotay relaxed his grip when she pushed against him gently. Still in his embrace, Kathryn looked up at her husband. The love, support, and concern she saw there confirmed her decision. One she never thought she’d have to make. She turned her head to look at Cambridge who had moved to lean against the surface of a small table, waiting for her decision. 

“Ok,” she whispered, feeling the winds of fate move and change around her. 

The ceremony began smoothly. Ever accommodating, the Terrashians were quick to forgive the misunderstanding. The members of the delegation hung onto every word, their faces shining with joy. _Voyager_ ’s crew watched with some confusion, but they too looked somewhat pleased with the turn of events. The evening’s proceedings were reaching the final, and the most anticipated portion of the ritual, the sign of acceptance. Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay were to place their hands on the boy’s head and affirm him as an extension of themselves. Hugh held his breath. They were almost there.

After explaining the rite to them, Cambridge had given them time to discuss in private whether they would use his name or hers. Now that the time had come, he was worried if they would go through with it. The Counsellor looked over at Governor Vax, the Terrashian’s eyes were bright in anticipation, excited to see whether the name that was about to be uttered would be Janewaian or Chakotaian. 

Heavy red fabric draped over their shoulders and kneeling on a raised platform before the divine representative, Chakotay and Kathryn exchanged a glance. Their hearts pounded loudly in their chests. This was it. They each raised a hand and rested it gently on the head of the boy standing before them. 

The Official raised his arms, the long sleeves of his scarlet robe spreading out like wings. “I invite you to speak the sacred words in the sight of all those gathered here, affirming that this child is your own. A boy not of one world but of two. A Child of Peace!” The man’s voice rumbled like thunder through the room, sending goosebumps prickling on the arms of those listening.

Chakotay took a steadying breath. Speaking in unison with his wife, he said, “We affirm, in the sight of all who are gathered, that–”

Kathryn broke off, unable to finish the sentence. Chakotay turned to her, confused. She looked back at him and instantly, he understood. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Together they lowered their hands. He turned to her and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, not giving a damn that everyone could see, before standing and turning to the crowd. He saw righteous fury on the faces of the Tarrashians and hopeless defeat on Cambridge’s. 

The Captain raised his hands to still the angry murmurings. “Please,” he began, “Don’t be concerned. The Admiral and I have every intention in completing the ritual. But we believe that to make the rite binding for all our people we must speak a different name over the Peace Child. Governor, we paused so that we might ask your blessing on this.”

The room was silent while they waited for the Governor’s answer. No one dared take a breath. Tension and anxiety made a potent cocktail in the stomachs of all the guests. Governor Vax eyed Chakotay. The Captain held his gaze unwaveringly. 

“Explain.” 

“Thank you, Sir. The Admiral and I have noted that your people’s names end in ‘x’. There is an ancient word from our planet that translates to mean ‘peace’ that also ends like this. Just as the child is a symbol of the ties of peace between our people, we believe that his name should also show our bond.” 

Vax was intrigued, “What is this word?” 

“Pax.”

“An honourable name.” The Governor nodded. “One of our ancient heroes was known as Pax. You have chosen well. You have my blessing.” 

Chakotay bowed, expressing his thanks to the other man for once again allowing them to change the sacred rites of the ancient ceremony. The boy would be recognised as a full person. 

He turned and resumed his kneeling position beside Kathryn. The soft curve of her lips was all the thanks he needed. 

The Official raised his arms for a second time, “I invite you to speak the sacred words in the sight of all those gathered here, affirming that this child is your own. A boy not of one world but of two. A Child of Peace!”

Together they spoke the words that would bind the life of the young boy forever to their own. “We affirm, in the sight of all who are gathered, that Pax is our son. We vow to protect him and care for him. He is the flesh of our flesh, the bone of our bone, the blood of our blood. From this day forward may everyone know Pax as the son of–”

“Admiral Kathryn Janeway,” Janeway continued in a clear voice before pausing to let her husband declare his own name. 

“Captain Chakotay.”

They spoke the final words together, “of the starship _Voyager_ and the Federation of Planets.” They lowered their hands from the boy’s head. He smiled at them, his cheeks red, and eyes unsure. Chakotay blinked back tears as he stood. Standing beside his wife and son, he wasn’t sure if his body could contain the joy that swelled inside of him. He reached out and scooped Pax up into his arms. Kathryn moved closer to his side. 

The Official placed a hand on each of them, “You, Admiral Janeway, and you, Captain Chakotay, have been entrusted with Terrash’s most precious treasure. Before all the people gathered here, you have announced your intention to raise the Peace Child. We hear your declaration and confirm that from this day forward, Pax is your son. He is the son of our people and the son of your people. May there be peace between us as long as he and his descendants walk upon the soil of our planets.”


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few much-needed conversations and an important update.

They had returned to _Voyager_ shortly after the ceremony had finished with promises to return the next day with the information ready for the exchange. Pax had been excited but also a little scared to be aboard the starship, hiding behind Chakotay’s legs when they arrived. Deciding to keep a full tour for a later date they restricted the exploration to the Bridge, Chakotay’s ready room, Sickbay, Engineering, and finally the Mess Hall for a late-night snack.

It had been exhausting but good. Pax was able to begin familiarising himself with his new home. More importantly, in Janeway’s mind, their trip through _Voyager_ ’s halls allowed key members of the crew to be updated on what had happened on the planet’s surface. On a ship as small as _Voyager_ , everyone would know about Pax before the official announcement Chakotay planned to make in the morning. Of all the people they had met that evening, the Admiral was convinced that Icheb and Bryce were the most enthusiastic. They had already offered their babysitting services. She smiled softly as she remembered the beaming grins that wreathed the faces of the young men. It had been a privilege watching their relationship blossom since leaving the Milky Way. 

Kathryn looked down at the small figure sleeping in the middle of her and Chakotay’s bed. He was due to join her in their quarters at any moment. She didn’t know how long she stood there watching the rise and fall of the blankets Pax was buried beneath. Of the boy himself, she could only see a tuft of dark hair and a small arm reaching out to cling to the pillow above his head. She was startled when she felt large, strong hands wrap around her waist from behind. Realising Chakotay had returned, Kathryn melted into his embrace. Her back rested against his chest, and his chin lay gently on her shoulder. The watched the boy sleep for a moment longer. 

“Did he settle alright?” Chakotay finally whispered. 

Kathryn turned and kissed her husband’s cheek lightly. Gently pulling him behind her, she guided him out of the bedroom and into the living room before answering. “He was shocked that we had these rooms all to ourselves. I didn’t think his eyes could get any larger than when he visited Engineering but seeing the bed was a close second,” she recollected with a smile. 

Chakotay chuckled and pulled Kathryn close as they sat on the couch. 

“And when I told him that over the next few weeks, we’re going to sort out a room of his own he started to cry.”

“What? Why?”

She hummed, thinking, “I don’t know if he was so overwhelmed by today that that was the last straw and it all became too much for his little brain or if he was scared of sleeping alone. He wouldn’t let me leave the room until he’d fallen asleep,” she explained. “He did give me a big hug after he stopped crying when we were getting ready for bed.” She shrugged, unsure as to what that meant.

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Chakotay lowered his lips to her neck, lavishing attention on the spot where it met the curve of her shoulder. She tilted her head to give him better access but was unable to hold back the heavy sigh that escaped lips as she did so. 

Her husband stopped his ministrations and asked, “What’s wrong? That wasn’t a happy sigh.”

Kathryn spun around on the couch so that she could face Chakotay. 

“I don’t know about this, Chakotay. I’m too old, and I’m not sure I’m going to be any good at this whole parenthood thing,” she expressed in an uncharacteristic admittance of self-doubt.

Chakotay gave a slight frown. “I’m not even going to justify the comment about your age with a response. But Kathryn, you are going to be a great mother.”

The woman in question let out a snort of derision. 

“No. You are.” He grabbed her hands in his own. “You do so well with Annie, and you were great with Miral and Michael. Not to mention our first trip in the Delta Quadrant. Naomi adored you, she still does. You know more about children than you realise.”

Kathryn shook her head, adamant on arguing her point. “Those were all short-term things. This is permanent. This isn’t giving a lesson, playing a game, or joining him for an episode of Flotter on the holo-deck.” She turned her head to face the bedroom where the little boy slept. “This is real,” she whispered retreating into the dark parts of her mind. 

“Hey,” Chakotay pulled her attention back to him. “You might not believe me, but your concern is a good thing.” He’d noticed her unusual trepidation around the boy and hoped that by leaving the two of them alone for a couple of hours while he finalised some urgent reports Kathryn would feel a little more confident in her abilities. It seemed his hopes were unrealised. 

Disbelief settled on his wife’s face. 

“What? It is. It shows that you care about him. You care about his wellbeing and his future. That’s a parent’s job.” 

Kathryn pulled her hands out from Chakotay’s. She stood up and began to pace. He followed her movements with his eyes. When she stopped, she turned to him, her hands resting on her hips. “He has so much responsibility on his shoulders. He’s just a kid. It’s not right. _We_ have so much responsibility. Billions of lives are relying on our ability to raise him.”

Reaching out, Chakotay grabbed her hands again. He pulled her back to him. When she was comfortably nestled in his arms, he spoke, “You’re right. He is just a kid, and he’s allowed to be a kid. He has no more responsibility than the next child. The law and the treaty hold the peace agreement between the Federation and Terrash, not him, not us. All Pax has to be is himself. Our responsibility to Pax is not about all the lives that the treaty protects but about him.”

Kathryn shook her head. “Isn’t that enough? A whole life is in our hands. It wasn’t his choice. He didn’t join Starfleet and choose to follow our orders and trust that we would do our best to make the right decisions. He didn’t decide to be a scientist or an explorer aboard a starship knowing all the risks that come with it. He got thrown into this even more than we did. At least we got to say yes or no.” 

She twisted in his embrace, pulling away from him. Looking pointedly at her husband, she continued, “It doesn’t matter if it was under threat of war. We still made the decision. And now– And now…” 

Chakotay moved his hands up her arms, stopping them just below her shoulders. He ran his thumbs soothingly across the fabric of her shirt. “Our job is to love him and to make sure he has the things he needs to grow up healthy and strong. To give him the support he needs to discover who he is and follow his dreams. Yes, we need to guide him and teach him; show him the difference between right and wrong so that when the time comes, he has the tools he needs to make his own decisions and understand the consequences of those decisions, good or bad.”

He gave her arms a gentle squeeze. “From everything I know about you, you can do this. You do the same thing for your crew. You guide them, lead them, protect them. You give them opportunities to explore and grow. In those things, Pax is no different. You’re right; he didn’t choose this life. But neither did Annie, Miral, Michael, or Naomi. But that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be here.”

He touched her face, brushing a finger along her jaw. “Like everything good in life,” he said, “There’s this unexplainable tension in how families come to be.”

Kathryn arched an eyebrow. “Is this one of your ancient legends?”

“Shhh,” Chakotay admonished before continuing as if she hadn’t interrupted, “On the one hand, we don’t choose our families, not really. Whether it’s birth or circumstance, our lives are woven together often by events beyond our control. But we also _do_ choose our families, Kathryn. How we love, care, and support those who’ve joined us in the twists and turns of life _that’s_ what makes a family. _That’s_ what _Voyager_ is. And now we have another member of our _Voyager_ family. You can do this. _We_ can do this.”

Kathryn looked at him, tears sparkling in her eyes. She rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes. He wasn’t sure what was going around that beautiful head of her’s, but he knew that when the time was right, she’d tell him. Until then, he’d continue to reaffirm the truth to her. That she could do it, that she was worthy of love in all forms, and that he would be by her side.

Pulling herself out of a warm, comfortable doze, Kathryn hummed, pressing herself closer to her husband. Smiling down at her, Chakotay’s hands moved to her legs, slowly running them up and down her thighs. She turned, twisting herself to face him properly. Looping her arms around his neck, she straddled his hips. Her eyes flicked to his lips. As they lost themselves in the feel of each other’s mouths, Chakotay’s hands wandered, and Kathryn’s tugged gently at his hair. 

Slipping his hands beneath his wife’s shirt, Chakotay revelled in her smooth skin. His thumbs brushed across the bottom of her ribs before moving higher. Deftly unclasping her bra, he continued to kiss her, the soft moans of pleasure rolling from the back of her throat was all the encouragement he needed. Moving to pull her shirt off her, she suddenly stilled, pulling back. 

“Kathryn?”

She shook her head slightly, then rested her forehead against his own. The puffs of their breaths mingled in the space between them. “Did you really want children?” She asked, her voice barely audible. 

Chakotay’s hands stilled. She heard him swallow heavily before bringing them to rest against her hips. 

“Even after everything Seska did to you?” She continued, pushing, afraid of his reaction. 

She felt his fingers tighten, pressing into her flesh before his body relaxed, giving into the discussion. “Yes,” he admitted softly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Chakotay moved, forcing Kathryn to climb off him. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. She mirrored his position, elbows on knees, close to him but not close enough to touch. An unknown fear flowed through her veins. 

“You didn’t want one,” he eventually admitted. “For a while, I wasn’t sure. When we were stranded in the Delta Quadrant, sometime in the first three years I think, you mentioned something about having wanted children but that things hadn’t panned out. You said maybe one day you would. But then time went by, and it didn’t come up again. It was always one thing or the other, even after our relationship changed,” he turned his head to look at her, “there never seemed to be a good time to talk about it.” 

Kathryn nodded; her eyes trained on the floor. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. So much _had_ happened. Everything had changed, and yet, nothing had. How had she not noticed his interest?

Chakotay continued, “That all changed when we went to visit Tom and B’Elanna after Michael as born.” 

He heard Kathryn’s breath hitch, no doubt remembering the conversation he was referring to. He refused to let himself look at her again, trying to keep his voice steady. “You told Miral that you weren’t going to have a baby, that you’d experience parenthood vicariously. It was then that I had the answer to the question that’d been buzzing around the back of my mind. I was sad at first, but I worked through it.” He took a deep breath. “I respected your decision. It hurt, but it was yours to make.”

Tears pooled in Kathryn’s eyes. She shuffled closer to her husband until their legs were flush against each other. She took one of his hands in hers. He curled his fingers around her own and squeezed gently. 

“You are my family, Kathryn. You are my future. Nothing was going to change that, and the crew is our family as well. Sometimes they even feel like our children.” A smile fluttered on his lips when Kathryn let out a huff of laughter. “I wasn’t going to give you up for some possibility, a maybe. A future that I didn’t want with anyone else.” He took her other hand in his, their bodies curling in toward each other. “You mean more to me than anything. To have you by my side, to be by your side, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“But then you wanted more?” She asked softly.

Kathryn’s heart ached at the pained laughter that fell from her husband’s lips. “Sorry,” he said when the sound died away. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He squeezed her hands, urgent, demanding her to listen, to understand. “Please, believe me, I wouldn’t have changed it, your decision, your right to decide, for anything. I love you, Kathryn. And as painful as our journey has been at times, I’ve learned, _am_ learning, to live in the here and now. To be grateful for every moment the spirits grant us. I can’t live in regret of the past or grieve the future. Every second is a gift and child or not; I was thankful, _am_ thankful, for it.”

“But… Are you glad? Now, I mean?”

Chakotay pulled her close, tucking her under his chin. “I think so. I’m glad we get to be a family, you, me, and Pax. I’m sorry we didn’t talk about this before. I’m sorry it got pushed on you, on all of us. But, yes, I’m glad that little boy is going to have a home, a family who loves him, and that I get to be that family with you. It’s not going to be easy. There are lots of things I’m worried about, but I think we can do it. I _know_ we can do it.”

Chakotay paused, pulling back, looking at her. “Do you want this?” He asked.

Kathryn stared back at him, incredulous. “The choice has already been made. I think it’s a little too late for that question.”

“Kathryn.”

She sighed, turning her face away from him, towards the door that hid the small body warming their bed. A tear ran down her cheek. She turned back to him. “I– I think so,” she admitted burying her face in his chest.

Chakotay pulled back, looking at his wife in the eye. “Hey,” he whispered, “you’re going to be great. We’ve got each other, and we’ve got a great crew who are already falling in love with him. We can do this.”

“Together?”

“Always.” 

Hours had passed since they had revealed their souls to one another. The night was giving way to morning. Sipping her hot drink, Kathryn noticed a slip of paper on the coffee table. Placing the hot tea, Chakotay had refused to replicate her coffee so late at night, on a coaster, she picked up the paper. It was Pax’s new birth certificate. Chakotay must have picked it up from sickbay after Doctor Sharak had finalised it. Tears pricked her eyes as she read hers and Chakotay’s names followed by the boy’s, _Pax Kolopak Janeway_. Looking up from the paper, she saw Chakotay watching her, something unreadable in his eyes.

Her voice broke as she tried to speak, “We have a son.” 

Chakotay nodded, a small smile on his lips. He reached out and laid a hand on her arm. “Ok?” He asked. 

She nodded. 

“We’ll do this as we’ve done everything else,” he vowed once more. 

“Together?” 

“Together,” he echoed. 

She moved, padding over to a bookshelf that held a large intricately carved wooden box. Opening it, she pulled out a silver compass and lay it beside the box. She reached back in and pulled out the bonding box that had started their journey together. She ran her fingers over the interlaced circles on the top, glad it had somehow survived each adventure they’d faced. After their wedding, Chakotay had returned the design to its original state. She felt him behind her, watching as she paused over the drawing of Mollah. Her daughter. No, the _other_ Kathryn’s daughter. She brushed her finger over the curve of the child’s cheek, a lump forming in her throat. Carefully placing the birth certificate on top of the picture, she turned to replace the other items in the box. Chakotay gave her shoulder a soft squeeze and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. Time for bed. 

Three weeks had passed since the Peace Feast. Admiral Janeway sat in her chair on the bridge. Listening to Governor Vax say his final goodbyes over the viewscreen. “You may have heard,” he said, unable to contain his smile, “that last night when we brought our request for an investigation and reform of house child practices before the Senate it was accepted almost unanimously.”

“That’s wonderful, Governor,” Janeway replied.

“That’s not even the best part, Admiral. In each of the Provinces, families are coming forward, expressing interest in welcoming house children into their homes. In the Capital alone, more than one hundred people have started the necessary steps to become parents through the naming rite. Even if I had dedicated my entire life to this, I wouldn’t have seen half the interest or changes we are because of _Voyager_. Thank you.”

The Admiral shook her head. “Things are changing because of you, Governor. You took the chance and proposed a new interpretation of your traditions. You have been the one spearheading the necessary reforms. None of this would be happening if you didn’t want it to; if you hadn’t been preparing the ground for years. Congratulations, Governor Vax. I hope your success continues.” 

The Governor thanked them once more before wishing them safe travels. His face disappeared from the screen and was replaced with the green and white planet of Terrash. 

Janeway looked over at the Captain’s seat. Pax was perched on his father’s lap. Kathryn felt a smile pull at her lips. Chakotay had taken to fatherhood like a house on fire. He threw himself into it and embraced each moment just as he did everything else, with passion, wisdom, and a quiet strength she’d come to think belonged to him alone. She was still tentatively feeling the situation out, and to her relief, Chakotay gave her plenty of room to ease into it. She knew he was doing everything he could to take the pressure off her and let her explore what it meant to be a mother. It helped that Cambridge was more than willing to do sessions with them as they worked through what it meant to have parenthood thrust upon them so suddenly. 

Looking at her two boys, she was surer than she’d ever been that this was what she wanted.

As if he knew she was watching him, Chakotay turned to look at her. Her smile softened, she nodded. 

The Captain bent his head, whispering to his small assistant, “Ok, like we practised. Nice and loud.” 

Pax took a deep breath. “Ens’n Gw’n,” he said, his mouth trying to form the foreign words. “Take us home.” 

Gwyn grinned, “Aye, aye, Little Captain!”

Pax turned to look at Chakotay, happy when he saw his father’s smile. He then twisted his little body to look at the Admiral. She gave him a thumbs up. Spotting it, a broad smile took over the boy’s face. Inside her chest, Kathryn’s heart swelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that this was the last chapter! Thanks so much for reading and commenting. It means the world to me and makes me want to keep working on my writing.  
> In the last chapter, some of you predicted elements of where I was going with the story and I just want to give a big shout out to you all. I'm impressed! Well done. I'm so happy my writing was clear enough that you could follow it through before I even posted it. You guys rock!

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe and have a great day!   
> JBeans


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